


Relative Minor

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/F, Rough Sex, Smut, Strained Relationships, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24388852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rachel means to break up with Quinn but Quinn has other plans.Before Rachel can make her intentions known Quinn fucks the shit out of her over the back of their couch.Maybe Rachel will break up with her tomorrow.
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121
Collections: /r/FanFiction Prompt Challenge #18 / May 2020





	Relative Minor

**Author's Note:**

> [Inspired by the poem The Body Of A Woman Is A Barren Land by Inioluwa Abiola](https://internetpoem.com/inioluwa-abiola/the-body-of-a-woman-is-a-barren-land-poem/)   
>  [Written for Reddit's fic prompt May Challenge](https://www.reddit.com/r/FanFiction/comments/gbk0wz/prompts_challenge_round_18_may_2020/)

Rachel leaves work along with all the normal people. She’s jealous. They’re free to go wherever they want, see whoever they want, do whatever they want. Rachel is trapped. The other actors and the audience flood out of the theater into a wide world filled with freedom. Rachel is heading back to her cage.

She pauses at the door of her and Quinn’s apartment. She leans her head against the doorframe and takes a deep breath, contemplating running for her life. Instead she replays the memory of the fight that she and Quinn have been having every other week for eight months.

_“There’s nothing you can say to me that’s going to make me want children, Rachel. You don’t understand how intrusive and absolutely awful it is to carry a baby, how scary it is to be responsible for another human’s life.”_

_Rachel paces, frantically wringing her hands. She’s desperate to get this situation in hand, to gain the higher ground, to get things back under her control._

_“You don’t have to carry it, you know. I can. Or we could adopt,” Rachel says, already dreading Quinn’s response. Kids are non-negotiable for Rachel. She wants them, she always has._

_“As if I would ever let you put yourself through that,” Quinn scoffs, standing with her hands on her waist, hip popped out, looking very much like the mean cheerleader that made Rachel fall in love ten years ago. “It’s too painful, too dangerous. I can’t risk you like that; you mean too much to me.”_

_“People have babies every day Qui- “_

_“And as if I’m going to suffer through the drama of another adoption,” Quinn says like it’s a curse, her voice rotten with regret. And that’s the final thing she’ll hear on the matter._

_They fight. Rachel goes to a hotel, cries like a depressed damsel. Quinn calls her and begs her to come home. She says there’s nothing to be gained from going or fighting. Nobody can win. Every time it happens the cycle completes with Rachel retreating and surrendering to Quinn’s arms. She can’t help herself. She’s a bird with a belly full of lead. She can’t fly without Quinn. She can’t fly with her._

Rachel used to want to run away with Quinn; now she just wants to run away.

Tonight’s the night Rachel breaks the cycle. 

Though Rachel’s always been a romantic – she puts her faith in things like show tunes and the power of dance and the idea that true love conquers all – she’s slowly come to the horrific realization that maybe there’s a reason nobody ends up with their high school sweetheart.

_Just tell her. Be concise. End it._ Rachel thinks as she opens the door and steps into their studio apartment that’s more cramped than cozy these days.

“Hey beautiful!” Quinn is over the stove, with an apron tied around her waist and her choppy hair tucked back under a cute hairband. She looks every bit the homecoming queen that she was supposed to be like she always does when she’s feeling overly sentimental and domestic.

Rachel thinks with biting sorrow at how perfect all of this could be if Quinn had a few little ones weaving and chirping around her legs while she cooks dinner.

“I got off work early, so I decided to cook for you! Breakfast for dinner. I even got you veggie bacon,” Quinn says with a diamond smile. She takes a pan filled with faux bacon strips off the stove and sets it on an oven mitt on the counter.

Rachel walks over to see what she’s cooked. Stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, along with a pile of veggie bacon, and a big fruit salad crowd the small counter.

“Looks good,” Rachel says warily. “Quinn, I think we should- “

“You were gone so early this morning I haven’t seen you all day!” Quinn says in an airy voice, almost as if she's doing this on purpose. “Come here,” Quinn says a bit quieter, gently even.

Quinn slips behind Rachel and wraps her arms possessively around her middle.

Rachel feels small in Quinn’s clutches, too small. Like Quinn might snap her bones if she squeezes too hard. Quinn’s like a vulture behind her. She grazes her teeth along Rachel’s shoulder, up her neck, and then finishes off her assault by nibbling on the shell of her sensitive ear.

Rachel’s body betrays her, and she shudders at the soft as sin touch.

“I missed you.” The lilt of Quinn’s murmur is so inviting that Rachel starts to give up, give in. She struggles against her baser instincts. She rolls in Quinn’s arms and turns to look up at Quinn’s light green eyes. It’s a battle not to get lost in them.

Quinn’s still the prettiest girl Rachel’s ever met, even after all these years.

What was she thinking about again?

Quinn gives her a pageant smile and then leans down and kisses her gently, deceivingly.

Rachel forgets everything. Her body plays a traitor and forces her to surrender to Quinn’s touch. In some ways Rachel is crazier for Quinn now than she was at sixteen. She’d have to be to keep doing this.

The food is going to get cold. Rachel decides she’s not hungry anyway.

Quinn walks Rachel over to the couch that separates the bedroom and the living room parts of their tiny apartment, kissing her deeply, nibbling at her bottom lip, sneaking her tongue into Rachel’s open mouth. She shoves her down and Rachel’s stomach swoops with dread and excitement

Quinn kneels in front of her with her eyes glinting like a snake’s. It looks like she’s is about to go to church. She peers up at Rachel as if she’s exalted, as if she’s an archangel and it makes Rachel burn hot like a devil. 

Quinn’s kisses up Rachel’s thighs are muted by her tights. The teasing, faded sensation makes Rachel want to scream. She squirms and pushes herself up trying to tug her stockings down. Quinn assists her but so aggressively that her fingernails scrape Rachel’s legs and her tights are riddled with runs by the time she gets them off.

Quinn drags Rachel’s underwear off and shoves her skirt up around her hips.

“Spread,” is all Quinn has to say.

Rachel splits her legs wide and tries to ignore the echo of a bad feeling ringing in her ears.

The way Quinn stares in between her legs and _inspects_ her makes pleasure roll around in Rachel’s stomach and a shiver runs up her spine. She’s always loved being watched, looked at. Quinn’s always been her favorite audience.

Quinn lowers her head and swipes her tongue up Rachel’s cunt at a glacial pace and Rachel whimpers and throws her head back, a slave to the sensation. Quinn starts to put her through her paces and Rachel moans and weaves her hand through Quinn’s pale locks. The feeling of Quinn’s tongue on her swollen clit makes her forget the future and forgive the past. All Rachel knows is now.

“Turn around,” Quinn says in a dangerously low voice after a few minutes.

Rachel obeys. She props her body up with the back of the couch, on her knees with her head and arms hanging over the back of it. She closes her eyes and sighs. Quinn has walked across the apartment and Rachel can hear her opening a drawer, shutting it, fumbling with something. Rachel droops further off the back of the couch as Quinn returns to stand behind her. She can see out of the bottom of her eye that Quinn has undressed, or at least the bottoms of her legs are bare now.

Rachel starts and gasps when Quinn rubs the tip of her fake cock against Rachel’s pussy. 

“Ready?” Quinn asks, her voice dangerously low.

Rachel isn’t sure.

“Yes.”

Quinn slides into Rachel and grabs her hips to help rock her body forwards. Rachel can sense that Quinn didn’t bother with lube for the strap-on, but she’s so wet she doesn’t care. Quinn fills her up inside and surrounds her on the outside. The pressure inside is delicious and demanding and Rachel exhales hard through her nostrils and squeezes her eyes shut trying to block out everything but the feeling of Quinn fucking her.

The pace picks up and Rachel loves her sound of Quinn panting behind her, the feeling of her nails on her hips, the insistent slap of Quinn’s legs on the backs of her thighs. It had been such a long day and now she realizes how much she wants to just be fucked silly, to forget everything, to be used up.

Quinn hooks both of her hands over Rachel’s shoulders and brings her slamming back against the full length of the cock. Rachel yelps and she can nearly _hear_ Quinn smile cruelly.

“Do you like that?” Quinn asks. “Do you like it when I fuck you this hard?” She pumps even harder to make her point.

Rachel’s afraid if she speaks, she would drool all over herself or not be able to form words, so she just nods fervently.

“Good,” Quinn says, her voice liquid silver. It just makes Rachel thrash harder in sync with Quinn's controlling pulls and pushes.

A knot is tightening and tearing in Rachel’s abdomen and she knows she’s going to rip through the seam and soon.

“Please,” she’s only just barely able to choke out as her fingers scramble over the back of the couch and she presses the side of her head down, turning it so hopefully Quinn can make out her request.

“I know baby,” Quinn promises in a hushed tone. “I know.”

She keeps her strokes uniform, pushing into Rachel at the exact right speed.

Rachel starts to seethe, and she can’t stop as pleasure sloshes around starting in her stomach and rolls up her body, exploding behind her eyes. The orgasm is sharp, cutting even and leaves her biting her arm with tiny tears creeping out of the corners of her eyes. Surely, Quinn knows she came with the way her body shook and the shrieks she had just emitted but she shows no sign of slowing down even with the way Rachel has slumped over the couch, obviously spent.

Instead Quinn keeps thrusting, fucks her harder. She steps up behind Rachel shoving her down further so now the back of the couch is biting into Rachel’s hips. Blood rushes to Rachel’s head and she wonders if she might pass out. The angle Quinn has on her is murderous and her thrusts are pushing far deeper into Rachel. 

Rachel has to put her hands on the floor to stop herself from completely toppling over. Her body is aflame now, buzzing from the orgasm. Pleasure is fading into something else, something mean but laced with sweetness. Something deceptive with a brutally honest ring to it. Rachel whines and cries and begs without words for Quinn to keep going, to never stop. She can’t get enough. How can you get enough of something that starts as too much?

She curls in on herself, coming a second time. It barely even feels recognizable as an orgasm. Instead, it’s more like a detonation, destroying Rachel from the inside out.

Quinn has to reach down and muffle Rachel’s screams with a cold hand. Quinn stays like that, leaned over on top of Rachel, submerged deep inside her, for a few long and slow seconds. When she pulls out and gets up Rachel rolls wildly after her. The flood of blood back to her skull makes her see white spots and she collapses, splaying herself over the sofa. Quinn rubs Rachel’s stomach and says soft and soothing things while Rachel shakes and lets out little sobs.

“Jesus baby,” Quinn says softly. “Come on. That was really intense. Why don’t you lay down in bed for a minute?” Quinn’s voice is back to honey, the vindictive tone completely banished.

Rachel walks on shaky legs over to the bed. She’s so unsteady that Quinn holds her arm as if she’s afraid Rachel will fall.

As Rachel drifts off into an uneasy dream with Quinn’s arm fastened possessively around her waist she thinks, _Tomorrow. I’ll end it tomorrow._


End file.
